CHAPTER IV
OLD MAN CASPAR
That was how it came about that Mr. Trupp helped young Ernie Caspar into the world. There was no doubt who the lad took after.
"He's his father's child," said the young surgeon.
Whether Mrs. Caspar was angry with her son for his resemblance to her husband, it was hard to say, but she was fierce even in her mothering.
Now she nodded at the photograph of the woman in court-dress upon the mantelpiece.
"It's her he favours," she said shortly, one stern eye on the sucking infant. "He's the spit of her—same as Ned. None of Old Man Caspar about him."
"Have you seen him?" asked Mr. Trupp, washing his hands.
"The Old Man?—Yes. Once. He came to lunch. Met Ned on Beau-nez. I was landlady that day." She nodded grimly at the window where hung the card. "That's why I keep that up—lest he should come down on us sudden. We're done if he finds us out."
Mr. Trupp grunted as he dried his hands.
"I'm not so sure," he said.